


Control || Ben Parish

by sincerelycarter



Category: The 5th Wave Series - Rick Yancey
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Parish - Freeform, Sullivan - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-05
Updated: 2016-03-07
Packaged: 2018-05-24 15:23:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6158017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sincerelycarter/pseuds/sincerelycarter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"And all the kids cried out,<br/>'Please stop, you're scaring me'<br/>I can't help this awful energy<br/>Goddamn right, you should be scared of me<br/>Who is in control?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

#  Control 

_And all the kids cried out,_  
_"Please stop, you're scaring me"_  
_I can't help this awful energy_  
_Goddamn right, you should be scared of me_  
_Who is in control?_

_I'm well acquainted_  
_With villains that live in my bed_  
_They beg me to write them_  
_So they'll never die when I'm dead_

  
_**Control** ; Halsey_  
_**This River Is Wild** ; The Killers_  
_**Dollhouse** ; Melanie Martinez_  
_**The Scientist** ; Coldplay_  
_**Gasoline** ; Halsey_  
_**The State Of Dreaming** ; Marina and the Diamonds_  
_**Viva La Vida** ; Coldplay_  
_**Summertime Sadness** ; Lana Del Rey_  
_**Tag, You're It** ; Melanie Martinez_  
_**Disenchanted** ; My Chemical Romance_  
_**A Certain Romance** ; Arctic Monkeys_  
_**End Of The World** ; Juliet Simms_  
_**Smile Like You Mean It** ; The Killers_  
_**Robbers** ; The 1975_  
_**Mardy Bum** ; Arctic Monkeys_  
_**Battle Born** ; The Killers_  


She was a shadow. A perfectly trained ready to assassinate shadow. She followed orders, never acted out, stayed silent and cleaned up after herself. She was everything _they'd_ wanted and more. The perfect solider, emotionless and cold. She had precision and control and never put a toe out of line, did the drills her superiors gave to her, led the young ones in target practice, and considered herself the best, above every other recruit. That's why _they_ made her go with the worst squad. Squad 53. A hopeless band of misfits, lead by someone months younger than her, followed by someone who hated everyone, a mute, someone who couldn't keep their mouths shut and two seven year olds, along with a couple of other who couldn't shoot for the life of themselves. Shadow, was going to have a hell of a time fixing this Squad.

Shadow was on another night mission. _they_ had fitted her with the regulation uniform, but better camouflaged for the night and the urban setting she was currently in. Along with her Sniper-Rifle, she had been given night vision goggles, and a communications line so she could easily talk to her superiors, who had to monitor her adrenaline levels as she killed, because if they want haywire, their perfect, cold, calculated killer began to go crazy, she would irrationally put herself in danger, which is why they banned her from having a team. They were much too worried about their numbers to let her get everyone killed, which had happened once before they realised their mistakes, and let Shadow eat, train and fight solo. She became a ghost story whispered about in the dorm rooms at night, what she would do, or so everyone said, is look after the Squad's when they were on their missions. She would position herself in a snipers nest, and take out threats that couldn't be seen from the ground. It was simple enough, when the team that she was looking after were at least half competent. It got frustrating if they kept making rookie mistakes, like not checking around corners before they moved, or shooting without taking off their safety. Why didn't Reznik and Vaughn train them better, surely their missions could wait a little longer if it meant getting them more acquainted with their guns and their surroundings, so that she didn't have to do all the work. It was not only frustrating her to no end, but leaving her with scars and bruises from jumping off high places to get to a better vantage point, or getting into hand to hand battles with other snipers out to get the team. Playing Guardian Angel often got her hurt. That's why Reznik decided that she needed to be on an actual team, despite everyone knowing that she doesn't play well with others. After returning from a particularly hard mission, she was debriefed, and sent to the med bay. There, she was washed and dried, the bleeding gash across her stomach was sterilised, given stitches and bandaged, as well as those on her arms and legs. Nothing could be done about the black and blue bruises that littered her body, even those on her neck from being strangled by the second sniper. She had snapped his neck, and ran back to her nest to protect the innocent little team. Once she was rested and partially healed, she was to be taken to meet her new team. Honestly, she would've preferred another hand to hand fight. 


	2. Meetings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shadow meets Zombie. They don't get on. Shadow meets Ringer. They do get on.

_My name is Shadow. I don't play well with others. I am the Guardian Angel of this base. I'm injured. Reznik is forcing me to be part of a Squad. I don't like him._ I repeat these things over and over in my head as I walk alongside him, Reznik. I don't look healthy, my cheeks are sunken and hollowed out and there are deep dark circles under my eyes. I know this because every time I end up in the Med Bay, they let me take a proper shower, and in the bathroom there are large mirrors that I spend a decent amount of time looking in. Currently, there are two large purple bruises on my neck, handprints. The enemy sniper tried to strangle me. So I broke his neck. Those are the only injuries showing. He also slashed at me with a knife, the gash runs across my shoulder and down my chest to my belly-button. That, and the thousands of bruises and scratches are covered by my uniform. My hair, dark red, is pulled back into a tight ponytail. It's messy because I didn't have time to fix it, because I spent too much time studying my flaws in the mirror. That's what I do sometimes. It's because they see me as their 'perfect warrior.' I'd give an arm and a leg to show them that I'm not half as perfect as they seem to think. Just because I'm in very good physical condition, and I'm ruthless in killing whoever and whatever they tell me too, doesn't make me perfect. If the world was like it was before all of this shit, I would be seen as a cold-blooded killer, and sent to either a mental asylum, or a high security prison. So yeah, I don't see myself as perfect. I don't think anyone who is in this place see's themselves as perfect, mainly because of Reznik. When they train he drills it into them that they're a killer, nothing more, nothing less, that they're worthless and stupid and their mothers and fathers hate them, even though in most cases thats not true. I know plenty of recruits here that had parents who loved them very much. Me? Mine? I wouldn't know. I was an orphan before this thing even started, which made me bitter to begin with. As I thought, I walked, it was a habit of mine, to get lost on a rather large tangent of though, and didn't realise I had made it to the Squad I was going to be a part of. Reznik knocked on the door loudly, and there was a large bang, and feet moving quickly. He then got bored with waiting, and opened the door himself. I straighten myself up. I wasn't short by any accounts, but I liked making myself look taller. There they were. The biggest band of misfits in the entire base. The first person I laid eyes on was a girl who looked around my age, with black hair and pale skin. Stood next to her was a short girl, with blonde hair and an arrogant look about her.Then there was a boy with dark skin and glasses, and another dark skinned boy, only he was taller and larger. Then, there was a boy with reddish hair who looked like a leader, and on the other side of the room, two other boys, one my age, with brown hair and a hardened face, the other looked to be around seven, and cute. "Private Shadow, meet Squad 53. Private Flintstone-" Reznik gestured to the boy with the reddish hair. "Private Dumbo and Poundcake-" He pointed to the two boys with dark skin. "Private Teacup and Private Ringer." The two girls. "Finally, Private Zombie, and Private Nugget." He said with finality. "Squad 53, Private Shadow." I nodded at them, focusing on Teacup first, she was so young. When I was her age, I was still making daisy chains at the orphanage. Then I looked at Dumbo and Poundcake. They stared right back, puzzled looks on their faces, knitted eyebrows and all. Then Zombie, who looked just as bad as I did, even worse. Then I looked at Ringer, who looked right back at me, half glaring, half admiring.  
"I thought you were a ghost story." Her voice was weak and scratchy, like she wasn't used to talking, or she had been yelling a lot, I don't know which it was.  
"I am." I replied. Reznik walked out, closing the door behind him. "Let me get things straight." I said, pacing the room. "I don't take orders from anyone. I don't play nice with others." I said, and Flintstone was the first one to respond. Being the leader of the group, he didn't take well to me saying I wouldn't listen. He stormed over to me, and grabbed at my wrist. I flicked my captured wrist up, and and pushed his arm off mine with my other, free hand. "Don't touch me." I growled.  
"I'm the leader of this Squad. You listen to me." He said. I pursed my lips and raised my eyebrows. He grabbed at both my wrists, and we continued to glare at each other, eyes narrowed, jaws set and a small growl escaped my mouth.  
"You're not the leader anymore Flint." His hoarse voice cut though the tension, Flint threw my wrists down and turned away to sulk. I raised my eyebrows and turned to face Zombie. "I am." He said. "And let me get something straight with you. I don't know who you think you are, or why you think you're so damned special. But you need to back the hell off and get some respect."  
"Respect? Respect!" Oh now he'd made me mad. _Very_ mad. "You are the ones who aught to respect me, because you don't know this, but I have saves your asses more than once. Every mission where you hear a rouge gunshot go off, me. I have killed snipers after you, I've cleaned up after your mistakes. These-" I gestured to the bruises on my neck. "Are because of you." I put my bags down on the only spare bunk in the room, the one above Private Zombie's bed, and stormed off.  
"Why is she allowed to go anywhere she wants?" Asked Flint.  
"Shut up." Ringer responded, following after me in a jog, she had to do that to match my pace. I wasn't happy and wanted to work out my frustration on a punching bag. "Hey! Shadow!" She yelled, following me.  
"What do you want Private Ringer?" I asked, being formal.  
"I wanted to say thank you, I'm sure you've saved my ass many a time, and I never had a face to thank. Sorry that the rest of the Squad are insufferable." She said, almost smiling. "Where are you headed?"  
"The shooting range, you're welcome to come with me." I replied, turning and walking off, not waiting for her response. Either she would come with me and show me how she shoots, or she would walk back inside with the boys, and play some silly card game. She chose to walk with me. It wasn't a long walk to the shooting range by any means, but the harsh silence between us seemed to lengthen the time that we spent from one place to the next. We arrived, both pulling the bright yellow ear mitts across our heads to protect ourselves from the harsh sounds of guns being fired. We were the only two there, as training for they day had finished, and it was free time, to clean up and eat. We picked up their weapons of choice. Ringer chose a smaller, easier to handle gun, not made for range or accuracy, but for speed. After shooting her first round, I could tell she had the accuracy down for herself, but needed to work on the speed she let out the bullets at. I picked a gun made for range and accuracy, knowing that speed would come with practice. I set the target back a little further, being a sniper had its advantages when coming to closer gun combat, as I didn't have to worry about the wind speed or trajectory, so I had less to worry about when shooting close range. Just point and shoot, that's all it took. I fired off a round in under 7 seconds, each of them hitting their mark, most to the head, but a few to the body of the target. I looked at Ringer, and we both took off our ear mitts to speak to each other.  
"You're very good you know, you just need to work on the speed, you'd be dead twice over if you worked alone." I said, muttering the last part, as I knew she had her team to look after her.  
"You're very good too, because you're a sniper, you have an advantage of knowing that if no one has your back, you do." She said, smirking smugly. I knew she was right, I could look after myself, and that's the reason I was mad at Reznik, because I knew I didn't need a team, yet he put me on one. We put the mitts back on, and re-loaded our guns, then we began taking shots at the fresh target sheets emptying our clips into them methodically and ruthlessly, the two warriors of Squad 53. 


	3. Fighting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ringer and Shadow hold team, Zombie argues and Flintstone gets hit.

_My name is Shadow. I don't play well with others. I am the Guardian Angel of this Squad. I'm injured. I don't like Zombie._ I repeat the mantra in my head over and over until my internal voice is the only thing I hear. I can't feel the mud on my boots that is creeping slowly up my legs and matted in my hair. I can't hear the grunts of the Squad behind me. I power forward, the barbed wire catching my leg and slicing it. I hiss but continue. I grab the rope that dangles teasingly in front of my face. _My name is Shadow._ I put my booted feet on the log wall, using the rope to hold onto as I pull my feet up, walking horizontally up the wall. _I don't play well with others_ I make it over the wall, my leg stinging from the cut. I jump down to the next obstacle. _I am the Guardian Angel of this Squad._ I jumped through the tires, my leg hurt, my lungs hurt, the giant cut that was still healing on my chest hurt, the bruises on my neck stung and I was pretty sure it was swelling up and closing my throat. _I am injured._ Behind me I heard my Squad catching up. Teacup is quick climbing as she has very little body weight to pull up. Same with Zombie. I glared ahed at his name. _I don't like Zombie._ The training course was finishing just ahed, meaning 100 push ups and 100 sit-ups. I finish in record time, placing my hands on the rough ground and began bending at my elbows. 1... 2... 3... 4... 5... 6... 7... 8... 9... 10... Zombie dropped down besides me and Ringer on the other side, closely followed by Flintstone. I was around 10 ahed of them. My hands were killing me, the skin was broken and bleeding onto the gravel floor. I felt breathing down my back, before a voice sounded out loudly.  
"Private Shadow! Do you call that a push up?!" Reznik yelled at me. I hissed and began to try harder. "On your knuckles Private!" I pushed up and changed onto my knuckles, feeling them rip under me. I let out a massive breath of air as he kicked my stomach, I refused to fall to the ground, I was relentless. 53... 54... 55... 56... 57... 58... 59... 60... I heard Zombie grunt as he got kicked as well. _My name is Shadow._ I finished my 100 push ups, and lay on my back, ready to start push ups. My stomach was aching more and more from the amount of pain the kick did. I think he hit my stitches, I wasn't fully healed yet. I could see it bleeding through my shirt.  
"Are you alright?" Ringer asked. I just grunted, starting sit-ups. 1... 2... 3... 4... 5... 6... 7... 8... 9... 10... I counted and repeated my mantra to myself. Name, Personality, Role, Pain, Zombie. Repeat. I hissed as I hit 25 and told myself only 3/4's to go. Zombie was watching me as he finished his push ups. I was way ahed of everyone. I had trained and trained to become almost immune to pain. Not completely immune, as that would be impossible. But almost. It started at the Orphanage. They liked to punish people who broke curfew with a belt and lashes over my back. And I broke curfew a lot, midnight snacks for the other girls, making life difficult for the Nuns. The Orphanage was in a very far out location, meaning the Nuns could get away with abusing and violating terms, and students. We weren't taught much reading and writing, just cooking and cleaning and things would would need to be 'ladies.' So much for that. The world ended before I could be a lady. The thing is, I got so attached to my hair. It was a sentimental thing. 40... 41... 42... 43... 44... 45... 46... 47... 48... 49... 50... I didn't cut it, and I refused to let Reznik cut it. I let it grow to my waist, long and curly and red. I braided it close to my head to keep it out of my way, but I kept it long. Now it was matted with dirt and blood and it's colour was muted and discussing. I couldn't wait to get in the shower and wash the muck out. I made it all the way to 100, my stomach turned from a stabbing pain to a dull ache. I stood up, saluted Reznik with a straight face, and walked off to the changing rooms. They were sterile and clean which made all the difference in the world as I took off my weights and hung them up on the benches. I lifted my top to inspect the cut on my stomach. My hands were torn and so were the stitches. Reznik liked me, but he didn't care for me. He only liked me because I was good. He showed no emotion towards me. I ran my hand along my stomach, tensing in and relaxing, almost crying from pain. But I didn't cry. It would be stupid to cry, and I wasn't going to cry. I was too brave. The door swung open and Zombie walked in, tugging of the weights he had too. He looked towards me, starting in shock as he saw my stomach.  
"Shit! Shadow what the hell happened to you?" He asked, furrowing his brows and taking a small step forwards.  
"This is why I don't like you." I said, sulking. He put one hand on my waist and the other dangerously near the gash. I shivered, his hands were freezing cold. "When I was protecting your clumsy Squad when another sniper showed up. I tried to take them out but they were too good. They cut me across here, strangled me and I was left practically for dead. I managed to snap their neck and kill them, but now you understand why I don't like you and your stupid ass squad."  
"Holy shit though, you saved our lives, I-"  
"Don't thank me." I said, hissing at the pain in my gash, and pushing his hands away, the moment was over. "Don't even talk to me. Ignore me. Be pissed at me, whatever, just don't like me." I practically growled at him, then I pulled my teeshirt, reddened with blood down, and stormed out, slamming the door behind me.  
The shower water was freezing cold, and as it hit the ground it was red with blood. I could hear the other members of the Squad laughing and playing cards or chess or something, even Ringer was getting involved with them, but I felt cold and removed. They were my mission, not my Squad. I would protect them, but I would never be one of them. I shut off the water, using the bandages Ringer had gathered from the med-bay to wrap around my cut, it'd stopped bleeding for a little while, and I had washed away all the dried blood. It stung, but the pain kept me grounded, thinking about the present. The present hurt, but thinking, hoping, hurt more. I dried myself off, towelling my hair dry as possible. It was dark red, like the colour of my blood. It reached down to my back, I pulled it into a simple low ponytail, wringing out some more of the water. I wandered into the room, and everyone stopped and looked at me. I was in grey pants, and a oversized blue hoodie. It was my own clothes, they let me keep them from when I arrived.  
"Hello...?" I said, puzzled. "Never seen a girl before, I'm almost sure Ringer and Teacup are the same gender as me." I said with a sideways smile. A few awkward laughs were exchanged, and then they all went back to talking to each other. I climbed the rungs of my bed, and lay looking at the ceiling.  
"Shadow, wanna join me for chess?" Asked Ringer. I made a grunt that signified that she was indifferent to the matter. I really wanted to be left alone, but I didn't want to make her upset at me. Enough people were mad at me. I didn't need another one added to the list. Zombie wouldn't look me in the eye, and I was sure he told the rest of the team what I did, but I didn't want thanks, and they didn't thank me. I'm glad they weren't talking to me. I wasn't one of the, I never would be. They were all there together, almost happy, holding onto hope that I had lost long ago, even before the invasion. I began humming under my breath, a song I used to love, the only thing that got me though the millions of lashes I would receive at the orphanage. _call me a safe bet, I'm betting I'm not._ It was a song about love and loss and sacrifices. I made so many sacrifices all through my life. I too the whip for the smaller children all the time, I took the blow for this Squad. I was a 'safe' bet for them. However I'm not, I'm reckless and get myself into all sorts of trouble, I break down and freak out and get on an adrenaline high and ruin things, bit they still trust me. I don't know why. I wish I was alone, so I could sing to my hearts content. I was in no way, shape or form a good singer, but getting all of my sadness out in a song would help me possibly get on with the other members of the team. I couldn't get on with them now, all smiles and happiness, but theres nothing happy or smiley about me. I was just a time bomb, ready to detonate and destroy the entire place. Fragile, but strong at the same time. A contradiction in myself. I was dangerous. I was in control. 


End file.
